


Worship on a Sunday

by reindeerjumper



Category: Bridget Jones's Diary (2001), Bridget Jones's Diary - All Media Types, Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
Genre: Easy like Sunday morning, F/M, I Blame Tumblr, Mark Darcy is good with his mouth, Morning Sex, Normally smut isn't my thing, Oral Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, The world needs more Mark Darcy sex, but i couldn't help myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8677906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reindeerjumper/pseuds/reindeerjumper
Summary: Mark has taken up a new kind of worship on Sundays, and Bridget isn't complaining.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Regency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/gifts), [S_Faith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Faith/gifts).



> A little smut for your Sunday evening. Inspired by the absolutely sexy fic [Regency](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/pseuds/Regency) posted [last night](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8668171). Let's face it--the world needs more Mark/Bridget smut ;)

Growing up, Mark Darcy’s family went to church every Sunday. His mother would have him dress in his Sunday best, and the three of them would head to the chapel in the town to file into the pews next to their fellow townspeople. His father was a creature of rigidity and order--his whole week would get thrown off-kilter if they didn’t attend a Sunday service, and he took the task rather seriously. “Worship on a Sunday, Mark,” the admiral would say to his son. “It will engage your week accordingly and clear your mind of the past week’s troubles.” 

In adulthood, Mark had stopped going to Sunday services, but his worship hadn’t stopped. It was just...a  _ different _ kind of worship. Since Bridget had come into his life, Mark had made it a point to stop going into work on Sundays. Instead, he opted to spend the morning with his girlfriend, usually in her bed.  _ Six days you shall work, but on the seventh day you shall rest.  _ Sunday was a day for Mark to sleep in later than normal, and for him to reflect on the good that was in his life. Fortunately for him, most of the good in his life was lying right next to him, warm and soft and usually snoring.

See, the type of worshipping Mark had taken up was more of the... _ carnal _ type. It was a far cry from the somber, monotone sermons that he had grown up with as a boy. Instead, it usually ended in a throaty, orgasmic cry and lots of passionate grunting. Sundays were for worshipping Bridget’s body the way it  _ should _ be worshipped--from head to toe and with careful attention to all details. It was Mark’s favorite day of the week, and Bridget’s, too. He looked forward to it  and often found himself thinking about it throughout the week (sometimes at incredibly inopportune times, which were always awkward). His reflections, however, made his worship on Sunday something of magic.

When Mark rolled over, the first thing he did was wrap his arm around Bridget’s waist. She was always so deliciously warm and Mark took it upon himself to bury his nose in her hair as he pulled her in closer to him. Of course this motion rustled her from her sleep, and she began to squirm against him, settling herself closer to the front of his body. The beauty of Bridget that Mark had come to appreciate the most was that she rarely wore clothing to bed, especially in the summer. He could feel her skin rubbing up against the thin fabric of his boxers, and his hand managed to somehow end up cupping the smoothness of her breast. Usually, Bridget’s body immediately responded to his touch, and the nipple beneath his thumb would become erect.

“Well, well...looks like last night didn’t satiate you the way I thought it would,” Bridget murmured sleepily, rolling her body towards him so that her hip was pressed up against his now-hardening erection. Mark smiled and began to kiss her languidly along her jaw bone, to which Bridget immediately moaned in pleasure. Spurred on by her throaty reply, Mark pushed himself up and over Bridget, swinging a long leg over her body and straddling her hips. His erection was now peeking out of the opening at the front of his boxers, and Bridget playfully ran a finger over the tip. Mark closed his eyes in response as a shiver ran through his body.

“I see you’re ready for round two,” she teasingly said, continuing to run her finger down the shaft and back up with torturous deliberation. 

“I’m always ready for whatever round we’re on,” he replied throatily. He leaned down and kissed her fully on the mouth. She reached her arms up and laced her fingers through his brown curls, which drove Mark crazy. He could feel her nails raking along the short hairs at the base of his neck, which was a delicious balance to the softness of her tongue against his. Bridget’s legs began to restlessly move beneath him, and she took one out from underneath him to hook it around his thigh. He could feel the heat between her legs, and he had to break apart the kiss to let out a hungry pant. 

With distance now between them, Mark was able to look down at Bridget’s naked body. He smiled as he admired its perfection--his hand gently ran itself across the hardness of her nipple, and slid down her side until it rested on the smooth softness of her hip. Bridget’s hair was splayed out on the pillow, and her eyes were bright with desire and amusement. She had thrown one arm up around her head, the other laid on her stomach, and the smile on her lips was enough to drive him wild. 

He leaned back down to nip gently at the pulse point on her neck, causing her to gasp in pleasure. Mark could smell her Burberry perfume, mingled with the sweat from last night’s shag. He began to kiss the impression of her collarbone, taking his time to properly express his devotion to every inch of it. He could feel Bridget’s moan vibrate against his cheek. The kisses he was peppering on her collarbone soon started to migrate south, and Mark allowed the velvet of his tongue to properly pay homage to Bridget’s beautiful breasts. He received the reaction he wanted when he felt Bridget’s hips buck up towards him and her hand gently tug on his hair.

“Mark,  _ fuck,” _ she murmured, her hips grinding against the erection that now stood fully outside of his boxers. He smiled as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, giving it a gentle tug with his teeth before kissing her squarely between the breasts. Bridget let out a laugh, running her fingers through his curls as he continued his journey of worship. Mark laid gentle, featherweight kisses against her abdomen, which caused goosebumps to spring up underneath his hands that still held her hips firmly. He took the pads of his thumbs and ran them across the lower half of her abdomen, feeling the softness of Bridget’s skin, even with the goosebumps continuing to roll across her body. 

He now found himself at his favorite part, and he allowed himself to look up her body and into her eyes. She was looking down at him, her eyes dilated with desire and want, and they sparkled at him with absolute enchantment. Mark arched an eyebrow in her direction and grinned wickedly at her. Half of his body now hung off the side of her bed, and he allowed himself to kneel on her floor. With his hands still gripping her hips, Mark pulled Bridget towards him so that the curve of her arse was almost on the edge of the bed. He placed a gentle kiss on the mound of sandy blonde hair before spreading her legs.

Mark had never considered himself a master in the bedroom until Bridget. She had awoken in him desires that he never knew he had, and offering veneration to the heat between her legs was Mark’s favorite part of his Sunday worship. He allowed his tongue to find the bead of nerves that were nestled there, and he began to express to Bridget just how much he adored her. He could hear her moaning in pleasure above him, which just spurred on his desire. His tongue ran up and down, the tip of it playing with the most sensitive part on Bridget’s body. 

Her hands were now twisted up in his hair as her feet dug into his shoulder blades. He could feel her hips bucking up towards his face, causing his mouth to press against her with more force. He could still smell himself on her from the night before, which caused a primal urge inside of him to rise up. His jaw ached, but it was worth it just to hear her gutteral moans and feel her writhing beneath his hands. Mark knew Bridget’s body almost as well as his own, and he could tell that she was close to coming. He took two fingers and placed them inside of her, keeping rhythm with the devoted strokes his tongue continued to bestow upon her. 

Soon, Mark heard her above him give a strangled moan. “Oh, oh,  _ ohhhh, fuck me, Mr. Darcy!” _ she exclaimed, bucking up against his chin as her hands gripped the blanket and her heels drummed mercilessly against his back. He couldn’t help the grin on his face. Mark could see her panting, her body convulsing with the shivers of her orgasm. He gave her another reverant kiss where he had just been, and Bridget let out a sharp gasp as she said, “Beast! Give her a second to recover!” 

Mark laughed and climbed his way back up onto the bed, his body on top of Bridget’s. She looked at him from one eye, her breath still coming out labored and raspy. He leaned down and kissed her on the neck, then turned his mouth towards her ear. “I want to hear you come, just like that, but with me inside of you,” he murmured. 

Bridget turned her head towards him and smiled. “I have no doubt that you can make me come like that again,” she murmured in return, and she hooked her thumbs into the elastic of his boxers and slid them off of his backside. Mark quickly divested himself of them and dove down to place a hungry kiss on Bridget’s lips. She returned the sentiment, running her fingernails along the scratchy stubble that had sprung up on his jawline. Mark pushed the hair off of her face, cupping her head protectively as he assaulted her mouth with kisses.

He could feel Bridget’s hand enclose around him, and Mark moaned into her mouth. He allowed her to guide his member into her, and once the tip of it felt the warm wetness that was down there, Mark couldn’t suppress his urges any longer. He pushed himself inside of her with a throaty grunt, and Bridget tilted her hips upward to better accommodate him. He was now blinded by passion, unable to focus properly on any one thing. He thrust into her with fervor, his hands firmly planted above her shoulders. 

The position they were in allowed Mark to look down at Bridget’s face, which was twisted up in pleasurable ecstasy. Her head was rolled back, exposing the taut muscles in her neck. Mark raked his teeth along them, to which Bridget let out a delectable moan, his name buried somewhere in its timbre. He could feel her legs writhing against his in pleasure, and he continued to thrust into her, his mouth surely leaving a love bite on her neck. 

“Oh, Mark, I’m going to come,” she rasped, throwing an arm across her eyes. Mark leaned his head down towards her mouth, allowing the curve of his ear to gently press against the corner of her mouth. He could feel her breath against his ear, and hear the labored pants escaping her lips. “Oh, Mark... _ oh, Mark,”  _ she whispered, grabbing the back of his neck with her hand as her hips bucked up into his.  _ Here it comes _ , he thought to himself. He was driven mad by the feeling of her breath against his ear, by the intimate sound of her voice snaking its way into his brain. 

“Mark, Mark, oh,  _ Mark!” _ she exclaimed as her body convulsed beneath him. He could feel her thighs tense completely, and then melt as if made of ice. The sound of her orgasm pushed him over the edge, and Mark felt himself overcome with his own orgasm. He let out a yelp as it racked his body with shivers, his hands grabbing the sheets beside Bridget as if they would anchor him to reality. Somewhere beneath him, Mark could still feel Bridget panting. 

Mark allowed himself to gently collapse onto her body, assaulting her jawline with soft, thankful kisses. He wrapped his arms around the top of her head, turning his face towards hers. Bridget’s face was flushed with desire, her eyes bright and adoring. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

Bridget laughed beneath him, placing a hand against his cheek. “No, thank  _ you.  _ You are an absolute sex god. No one has ever been able to make me come like that, let alone twice.”

At this, Mark grinned. He kissed the tip of her nose, stroking her cheek with his hand. “You bring out the best in me,” he replied softly, looking deeply into her eyes. They were a starburst of color, the deep blue on the outer of her iris fading into green near the pupil. He wanted to look into those eyes for the rest of his life. Bridget smiled at his comment, leaning up to kiss him on the mouth. He allowed the electricity from her lips to course through his nerve endings, causing him to shiver against her. 

Mark rolled off of Bridget and laid down next to her. He could feel her roll her body towards him, and he took his arm away from the side of his body to encircle it around her warm body. She laid her cheek against his chest, playing absentmindedly with the matting of hair that grew there. Mark kissed the top of her head, soaking in the feeling of having her close. 

_ It may not be church, but I’ll take this worship over a sermon anyday,  _ he thought smugly to himself as he gave Bridget a squeeze. She laughed and squeezed him back. Mark couldn’t help thinking of his father’s words about worshipping on Sundays.  _ “It will engage your week accordingly and clear your mind of the past week’s troubles.”  _

He couldn’t agree more.


End file.
